by Robert Price
The non-stop rain had confined Jenny and Fitzy, Jenny's faithful Labrador, indoors since the previous evening, so by the late afternoon they were both beginning to go a little stir crazy. Jenny checked the weather forecast on her computer when the rain eventually appeared to be easing off. 'No precipitation for 43 minutes' it said, despite the fact that a quick glance out the window confirmed that it was still drizzling. Nevertheless, with the evening beginning to close in, this looked like as good an opportunity as they were likely to get. So, equipped with wellies, plastic mac and an umbrella, Jenny decided to brave the elements and take Fitzy for a walk.
It would probably be more accurate to say that Fitzy took her for a walk. He was clearly in hot pursuit of something - probably a bitch in heat - but Jenny was just glad to get out of house and so, not having any strong preference as to where they went, she just hung onto the lead and let him drag her wherever his nose took him. Before long they found themselves on the path down by the river, directly opposite her old school. It had been several months since they had walked this particular route, so she was pleasantly surprised to note, given the weather, that the Council had at some stage decided to tarmacadam what had previously been a muddy trail.
As she gazed in the gathering gloom across the river at her old school, Jenny noticed the lights were already on in a few of the classrooms. It was too early for the cleaners to be in, so some of the teachers must have been working late. The classroom with the lights on at the far end on the second floor used to be Mr Martin's. That brought back a flood of memories. 'Froggy Martin' they used to call him, although no-one seemed to know why. It was not as if he looked like a frog, or sounded like a frog. It was just a stupid name someone had invented at some point in the distant past and for some inexplicable reason it had stuck. Jenny wondered if the girls today still referred to him as 'Froggy' and if that was still his classroom.
Froggy had been the form master for the senior girls in Jenny's final year in school, and as such he had always insisted in supervising the detention classes himself. Irrespective of who put you in detention, it was always Froggy Martin you would have to report to after school. It would not be too bad if there were other girls in detention. Boring, yes; but not too bad - you would just spend the hour writing lines before being sent home. However, on each of the three occasions Jenny had found herself alone in detention, he had found some excuse to cane her before sending her home. The first time had been for spelling mistakes or bad handwriting or something fairly trivial. She could not remember the actual reason, although she could remember the caning as if it had been yesterday. The second time was for having a 'bad attitude', when all she had done was sit quietly for the hour writing her lines. She could not remember if there had even been a reason the third time - it had just seemed to be assumed by both of them she would be getting the cane before she would be allowed home. Each time she had gone home with a very sore bottom.
It was not just Jenny of course. He never caned anyone in front of the others, but a couple of the other girls admitted he had caned them when they were alone. However, it did not happen to everyone. For example, Fatty Dawson and Specky Smith - the goofy girl with the inch-thick glasses - often got detention, yet they never seemed to get caned. It was as if Froggy had it in for some girls but not for others.
Mind you, he was not all bad. The rule in those days was that if you got punished in school you would get the same again when you got home. At least Froggy was decent enough not to send Jenny home with a note, unlike the other teachers who always insisted on sending a note home to be signed by her parents. It was as if Froggy and Jenny had an unspoken pact: if she took her punishment in school without fuss, then he would excuse her the note. Jenny suspected that, despite his occasionally harsh treatment, Froggy was actually quite fond of her. And in a strange way she quite liked him as well. When he wasn't caning her, he was usually very encouraging and supportive. She always did her best to please him and still doubted whether she would have made it to university had it not been for his encouragement. She therefore felt she had let him down each time he had felt the need to cane her.
The canings were the same each time. He would offer her a choice between 'twelve with panties up' or 'six panties down'. The first time, not wishing for a man to see her bare bottom, Jenny had opted for the 'panties up' option, thinking that her skirt might provide some protection. However, after bending her over his desk, he had flipped up her skirt and then pulled her panties up so tight that most of her buttocks were directly exposed to the bite of his cane. After giving her six vicious cuts bending over his desk, he had then made her touch her toes for the second six. This not only stretched her bottom tight, but exposed the lower, more sensitive, parts for the remaining strokes.
It had been an excruciating experience, but she would never make that mistake again. After that first occasion she decided that if he ever caned her again she would eschew all notions of modesty and opt for the panties down option. She did not have long to wait. She found herself back in detention by herself less than three weeks later. She had been determined not to provide him with a reason to cane her, and had consequently worked quietly for the hour diligently writing her lines. However, he claimed her attitude was sullen and resentful and that if she was to make the most of her talents she needed to learn a proper respect for authority. He then ordered her to fetch his cane from the cupboard and to bend over his desk, before flipping up her skirt and asking whether she wanted the panties up or panties down option. "Good girl," he'd said approvingly, when she opted for the panties down option. His approval helped soften her sense of self-loathing at having disappointed him again.
She could still remember that curious feeling of humiliation mingled with a strange excitement when he had gently pulled down her panties as far as the back of her knees. Her initial instinct had been to press her thighs together to preserve what modesty she could. However she realised that he would see everything when she had to touch her toes for the second three, so in an act of wanton defiance she had spread her feet as far apart as her knickers would allow as she bent over his desk. She had felt so wicked giving him an eyeful before she had to. Knowing that he could see her pussy had sent a tingle of excitement racing through her entire body. Even now, twenty years later, she wondered what impulse had seized her as she blushed at the recollection.
Having to take only six was just about bearable. The first one had been the worst because she had forgotten just how painful the cane actually felt until he had given her a sharp reminder. The second one was no less severe, but at least by then she knew what to expect. And, after the second, she only had to take one more for it to be half over. This however meant it was time to touch her toes for the second three. One more and she was two thirds through, although that fourth one had been right in the crease and had almost made her jump out of her skin. The fifth meant she had only one more to go, and although he said the last one would be the worst it was actually no worse than the others because he had held nothing back on the previous five. When Froggy thrashed a girl, he always made sure she would remember it, even when she had not actually done too much wrong to deserve it in the first place.
After the sixth stroke, Jenny had been told to remain in position while he examined his handiwork. Jenny remembered how she had cringed as he stooped down to examine her weals at close quarters. He would needed to have been blind not to notice her arousal.
"Tut, tut," he'd said, "I don't know what the young ladies of today are coming to," seemingly placing a heavy emphasis on the word 'coming'. Perhaps it had just been a casual remark, but Jenny felt he was letting her know he knew. She just wanted to crawl into a hole and die, yet deep-down a part of her wanted him to slip his hand underneath and provide the relief she yearned for. Instead Froggy had just stood up and given her a playful slap on the bottom before telling her to pull her knickers up. He detained her for a few minutes longer, saying that he hoped she had learnt her lesson. Jenny was not too sure what the lesson was, but she assured him that she had.
Jenny had run straight up to her room as soon as she got home. Before long, the by now not too unpleasant throbbing ache in her bottom, coupled with the memory of having shamefully exposed herself in front of a man and the ignominy of having had her arousal discovered, induced a need that could not be ignored. It proved to be the most intense orgasm of her young life. She had wanted to scream out at the top of her voice, but was afraid to do so in case it alerted her parents. All she could do was stuff her free hand into her mouth to stifle her moans. As it was, her mother, on hearing strange noises, had knocked on her door to ask if she was alright. Jenny had just about been able to reply between spasms that she was fine and even now, two decades later, she still broke into a cold sweat when she thought about what might have happened had her mother come in to investigate, only to find Jenny legs akimbo with her fingers deeply buried in her vagina and her bottom decorated with six bright red stripes.
Jenny had become obsessed with the cane over the next few weeks. She thought about little else. She dreaded and feared getting the cane again, yet alone in her room she had fantasized about Froggy hauling her over his desk and baring her bottom in front of the entire class to cane her again and again for being so wanton, yet the more he caned her in her imagination the more aroused she became until her fingers eventually brought her the relief she so badly needed.
She received detention twice more over the next few weeks, but on each occasion Fatty Dawson and Specky Smith had both been there as well, so she knew nothing would happen. She could not decide whether she was more relieved or disappointed. It was not until her very last week in school that she found herself in detention by herself one last time. Although he said nothing, she sensed it would end with her across his desk.
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